


Love Is All You Need

by Scribo_Vivere



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Extremely Dubious Consent, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, The Author Regrets Everything, This Is STUPID, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 09:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17660144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribo_Vivere/pseuds/Scribo_Vivere
Summary: Castiel finds a very inventive way to banish Michael permanently.





	Love Is All You Need

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a prompt from Destiel Port on Facebook, which consisted of “Cas f*cks the Michael out of Dean”. Of course, I couldn't pass that up, and knowing me, it's not going to be what you think. I also apologize for the craziness of this. It just wrote itself, lol.

Michael chuckled as Sam finished chaining him to the bunker's pillar, his eyes fixed on the younger Winchester's face.

“Do you truly believe that you, a mere man, can hold me here?” he asked softly, and Sam stepped away, his expression as hard as flint.

“I can't. He can.”                                                                              

Michael watched casually as Castiel walked into the room. The other angel's eyes were filled with a mixture of sorrow and anger, and his words were clipped.

“Do not think you will survive this.”

Michael smiled. “Is that a threat, brother?” he asked pleasantly, and Castiel snarled.

“That is a promise.”

“I see.” The archangel crossed one leg over the other calmly.

The sound of a gasp filled the room, and Sam turned quickly.

“Mom,” he breathed, as he caught sight of her pale face. “You shouldn't be here.”

Mary seemed not to hear him, and before anyone could stop her, she'd rushed at the seated archangel and slapped him viciously across the face.

“I know who you are,” she spat, “and you're going to give me back my son.”

Michael's eyes were ice-cold as he stared at her, though that smile was still in place. “And if I do not?”

“Mary, enough.”

Castiel's voice rang with authority, and Sam wrapped his arms around her, dragging her backward as she struggled, tears rising in her eyes.

Michael sighed melodramatically. “While I have enjoyed this little game, it's far past time it ended.” His tone changed abruptly, becoming dark and deadly.

“Release me. **Now**.”

The lights in the bunker flickered visibly, but while Mary glanced up, suddenly seeming unsure, Sam and Castiel stood fast.

“I don't think so. You're ours,” Sam said tightly, “so you might as well face it.”

An animistic growl rumbled from deep within Michael's throat, and immediately, without looking, Castiel spoke.

“Sam, take Mary and go.”

“What? And leave you here with him?” Mary balked. “What if he--”

“Castiel's right,” Sam agreed, watching the other being as he began to show small signs of obvious attempts to free himself. “Michael is dangerous, even like this. We need to leave.”

Castiel waited until the two were safely out of sight, and then sat at the table, stone-faced.

“Your care and concern for these creatures is...” Michael paused, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “Quite sickening, actually. However,” he went on, his lips turning upward in a mocking grin, “there is only one that you truly adore.”

Castiel's hands tightened into fists, and Michael laughed delightedly, relaxing once more against the chair.

“I know your precious human's every thought,” he said smoothly, “and quite a few of them are...salacious, shall we say.” He eyed Castiel with sudden interest. “Tell me, have either of you consummated this love yet?”

“I would stop now,” Castiel snapped, “while you still have your tongue.”

“Yes,” Michael mused, still watching Castiel—now very much in a way that reminded the other angel of a cat about to eat a canary. “Dean is often quite...vocal...in his fantasies about how he would like to use this tongue.”

Castiel's face flushed hot. He had known for a long time that Dean desired him, but to have it laid out so plainly by their greatest enemy, and so crudely? It was...

“Embarrassing?” Michael snickered. “Oh, Castiel, if only you could hear this man's reflections of you on a daily basis.” He paused, seeming to be listening to something only he could hear, and grinned again.

“Dean's screaming, you know. He is quite literally on his knees, begging me not to talk about this, because it doesn't fit his image of himself.” Michael shook his head in amazement.

“And I was under the impression that my brother Lucifer had issues with how our father raised us.”

Castiel's jaw was clenched so tight he feared that it might never reopen. “You,” he gritted, “will give us back Dean Winchester.”

“Why should I?” Michael asked calmly. “It seems to have slipped your mind, Castiel, that I'm also privy to this man's most despairing thoughts, and every one of his fears.” He leaned forward as much as he was able, his gaze intense. “Dean is well aware that all of you are better off without him. He would rather stay mired in his own mind than take control again and continue feeling the shame and guilt that chokes him every day of his pathetic existence.”

A mixture of fury and grief filled Castiel, and he rose so swiftly that the chair he had been using toppled backwards to the floor. Without a second thought, he'd strode forward and caught Michael by the lapels of his suit jacket, surprising them both.

“Apparently you've missed the point I'm trying to make,” Castiel growled, “so allow me to explain it to you. _I do not play games when it comes to this man._ ”

Michael's eyes were suddenly brighter, and he said softly, “Oh, no, Castiel. I've understood your point quite well.”

Castiel paused, watching the archangel as intently as Michael was gazing at him, and in that moment, he realized a terrifying truth.

Despite the fact that Dean was not _Dean_ , so to speak, he could not help but yearn for him. The feelings the man harbored were very much two-sided.

Michael said very quietly, “Dean's thoughts are quite... _loud_...at this moment. It’s rather infuriating.”

A sudden, insane idea hit Castiel, and he tightened his grip on the archangel. Without another word, he bent to catch _Dean's_ lips in a fierce, passionate kiss.

Michael reeled back immediately, but filled as he was with purpose, Castiel fought the archangel's superior strength, continuing his assault upon his mouth as he swung one leg over Michael's lap, settling himself directly over the other angel's crotch and grinding down.

_Dean_ , he thought desperately. _Hear me—you must take this moment to become yourself again. **Cast Michael out.**_

Though it was nothing more than a faint whisper, Castiel felt Dean reply in his mind.

_I can try, Cas, but...what if it doesn't work? I can't--_

_You must,_ Castiel replied ferociously, squeezing his thighs in a vise-like grip on either side of Michael's hips as the archangel jerked in the chair, fighting to get away from what he obviously viewed as a terribly sinful assault that was staining his grace. _You have the strength._

_I—I don't..._ Dean was faltering, and Castiel caught the man's length in a firm hand, keeping his balance even as Michael yelped against his mouth, struggling harder.

_I trust you. You are more than what you believe yourself to be; so much more. Return to me, my beloved one. I shall perish without you._

Michael's fingers were digging into Castiel's shoulders painfully in a desperate attempt to throw him off, and Castiel could feel Michael's grace fighting to burn him to a crisp.

**_DEAN!_ **

In the next instant, hands were tearing at his trench coat, sliding underneath to hastily untuck his dress shirt. Castiel arched at the feel of cool hands on his heated skin, his heart skipping a beat, but they were nothing except gentle, somehow knowing exactly where to touch.

“Cas,” Dean breathed against his mouth. “It's me. Michael's gone, for real this time. He's gone.” The man's voice was thick, and Castiel pulled away to cup his lover's face in his hands, thumbs brushing away tears the angel was positive Dean wasn't aware were falling.

“I love you,” Castiel murmured, blue eyes locked onto liquid forest green, and Dean huffed out a laugh.

“I can't believe that you took that kind of a risk. Trying to get Michael to leave by attempting to fuck me?”

“Attempting?” Castiel's eyes twinkled, even as he arched a slim brow. “We haven't even begun.”

Dean's breath hitched, and his thumbs settled on Castiel's hips, even as the angel felt the evidence of his arousal growing. “You mean you want to--”

“Yes, I do.” Castiel tried to appear exasperated, but couldn't stop himself from pressing a gentle kiss to Dean's brow. “I have for many years,” he admitted softly.

The hunter smirked. “How are we going to explain this to everyone?”

Castiel nibbled on Dean's earlobe, which earned him a deep, stifled groan, and murmured into the side of his neck, “We have plenty of time to think of something.”

The hunter chuckled, his fingers drifting under Castiel's slacks, causing the angel to draw in a sharp breath in anticipation.

“Which means I have all the time in the world to make you beg for it.”

#

Jack and Mary looked up simultaneously from their seats at the kitchen table as a long moan sounded throughout the bunker, their expressions alarmed. Sam rose immediately, disappearing down the hall.

Jack's expression was troubled. “I hope Castiel makes it out of this alive.”

Mary bit her lip and nodded. “From what I know of Michael, he'll chew Castiel up and spit him out, if he isn't careful.”

Sam suddenly reappeared as quickly as he'd left. His face was very red, and Mary rose halfway.

“Sam? What happened? Are you--”

“I'm fine,” Sam muttered, “except for wanting to claw out my eyes.”

Confused, Jack and Mary stared at him, and Sam cleared his throat as another desperate noise was heard.

“Um...Dean's fine, and so is Cas. Apparently Michael didn't want to deal with the pleasures of the flesh, so he let Dean go. Permanently.”

Mary blinked, still not understanding, but a wide grin was growing on Jack's face. Never subtle, he said, “Castiel used sex to free Dean?”

Mary's head whipped around to look at the young man as though her head was on a string, and Sam grew redder as his brother's name was suddenly shouted violently. “You could say that.”

Jack began to laugh hysterically, and Mary crossed her arms as she stared at Sam, who asked, “How did you know that they’re--”

“I'm your mother,” she said pointedly. “Did you really expect me to believe Castiel and my son were just friends? The sexual tension here’s been unbearable since I came back.”

Sam grabbed a glass and opened a nearby cabinet, retrieving a full bottle of Jack Daniels before pouring himself a tall shot and downing it in one gulp.

“I'm not drunk enough for this,” he mumbled. “Not in the least.”

 

**END**

 

 

 

 

  
 


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